


There’s only ever one candle

by martinisandart



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: 20’s dresses, Dinner, F/M, Sparkles, cant they just confess their feelings already, double date hehe, had too much fun with THIS, jack and his feelings once again, jack feels bad, perhaps we could allow ourselves MORE THAN ONE CANDLE, red wine and one candle, sigh, trope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-30 12:04:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20096959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/martinisandart/pseuds/martinisandart
Summary: Hugh is full of nerves for his date with Dottie, and Phryne (being the charming freight train that she is), offers to come along to chaperone... but so does the inspector. How... awkward? Sweet? Romantic? Maybe they will get their dinner with more than one candle after all.





	There’s only ever one candle

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt:
> 
> “It’s not a double date, we’re just third and fourth wheeling.”

“Good morning Hugh!”   
The Honourable Miss Phryne Fisher stepped into City South Police Station in a whirlwind of fur and feathers, balanced precariously on her silver heels, with a smile on her face and her cloche held firmly between her hands. Her mind, as per usual was raring and ready to delve into cracking the constabulary’s most recent murder case, though, if anything she was slightly het up for more than one reason, her thinking from a while earlier leaving her dumbstruck and more than a little confused.

As per usual, she tried to intervene in every single aspect of the current case at hand, and with her meddling not being quite as fruitful as usual, she had ended up spending a long night cramped inside a linen closet, spying on the nighttime habits of the staff at her aunt’s home in the country. Phryne had only returned home in the wee hours of the morning after a fruitless stakeout and a terrible drive, dropping her coat at the sleepy Mr. Butler as soon as she entered the hall of Wardlow, and crawling immediately up to her bed, before falling asleep without a care in the world. Her last known thought was of Jack Robinson, and for some unbeknown reason, this irked her terribly. Why was he what she was thinking about before she slept? Of course, her bed had been cold, empty of possible male companions to be wrapped in the arms of, and her brain had felt half awash with the amounts of whiskey she had consumed in a feeble attempt to stay awake, but alas, that was still no reason to fall asleep thinking of the Detective Inspector. She hadn’t even been set inside the closet with him for the majority of that evening, for God’s sake! When she had asked him if he would care to join her, (not to mention fluttered her eyelashes, placed a hand on his arm and smoothed the lapels of his overcoat) he had, for possibly the first time in either of their lives, turned her down, stating that he had a prior commitment to attend to. This had dulled her mood for approximately five seconds and affixed a pout on her red lips, but as soon as she was in the Hispano Suiza and driving toward her next attack on their case, her mind had been quelled of any further thought on the matter. 

Back in the present, her sunny disposition was met with silence, and Hugh Collins continued to look at the papers spread over the main desk, with a look on his face that told her he wasn’t really paying any attention at all.   
She leant over the counter and pointed at the map, poking a red pin in that she had pulled from elsewhere.   
“This would have been his point of entry, Hugh.” she said, referring to the murderer who seemed to be making everything about this case more and more difficult to solve. Hugh jumped out of his chair, and with a sigh, sat back down.  
“Miss Fisher! You gave me a fright!”   
Phryne laughed good naturedly, and patted him on the arm.  
“I can see that.” she exclaimed, taking to him while she scanned the map for any possible clues she might have missed,  
“You seem awfully jumpy today- more so than usual!”   
Hugh nodded, and taking a second to break her fierce eye contact, stood up to pour them both a cup of coffee. Phryne wrapped her hands around it gladly. She had left Wardlow too early to so much as think about having breakfast, and a cup of this liquid gold was just what she needed. She looked at Hugh through slitted eyes, and after taking a sip of her drink, leaned over the counter.  
“You could always tell me what’s wrong, Hugh.” she said quietly, with an astounding amount of force still in her voice.   
“I’m no Jack, but I can listen if I have to.”   
Hugh sighed pitifully, and sipping his drink, looked up at Phryne.   
“I have a... date. Tonight, with- Dottie. I’m a bit nervous, Miss Fisher, I haven’t- real dates aren’t my thing! Fishing is one thing, but a fancy dinner? Dressing up? I can’t do that, Miss, that’s not what I’m good at!”   
Phryne raised a hand to cut him off.  
“Not to sound like the Inspector.” she interjected, toying with the rim of her coffee cup and picking at the gilt edge,   
“But you’re babbling. It’s only Dottie, Hugh, she isn’t exactly scary!”  
The constable nodded meekly, and Miss Fisher’s eyes glittered, a plan quite obviously coming to mind. Hugh felt a little bit of fear settle in his stomach. When Miss Fisher had a plan, she tended to carry on through with it no matter what it was: a dinner? She’d pull through. A murder? She’d barrel in like a charming freight train. A date? She’d-  
“Why don’t I come along too, Hugh? I’m sure Dottie would love to have me there!”   
Hugh blinked.   
“Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t sit at your table, I wouldn’t intrude, I would just...”   
A sudden banging of the door notified another’s entry into the room, and the pleasant smell of pomade and sandalwood that Phryne had started to associate with one of her favourite people, subtly drifted their way.   
“Chaperone is the word you’re looking for I believe, Miss Fisher.” his tones were gravelly, and his voice low- a telltale sign that he too, hand not drunk his morning coffee.   
“Jack!” Phryne’s face lit up, and she smoothed her hair slightly before passing him her practically untouched cup of liquid sunshine. Their eyes met momentarily over the piece of china, his eyes darting down to the slight lipstick print she had left, and her own daring him not to take it. After a second, he took it from her, their fingers brushing slightly, and immediately took a sip, right over the mark from her lipstick, blue eyes still locked tightly on grey ones. 

Hugh coughed.  
“So you’re saying you want to chaperone my date, Miss Fisher?”   
Phryne nodded firmly, and took her cup back from the inspector, glaring as if she hadn’t given it to him in the first place, and taking a drink of her own.   
“Of course Hugh! Two of my favourite bright young things, going on a date, it would make me proud to chaperone you!” she smiled then, a dazzling smile, and Hugh grinned back at her.  
“Well thank you Miss, that’s all well and good then-“   
Jack took that second to cut him off.  
“But I have already offered to do just that, Miss Fisher.” he spoke in a tone that was smooth as silk, and Phryne thought she saw a glimmer in his eye, but as soon as it was noted, it passed.   
She laughed nervously.  
“So I’m not needed?”   
Hugh looked at Jack, who looked at Phryne, who was looking out the window, avoiding any eye contact from either of the men in the room. Her sunshine filled mood seemed suddenly dampened, and Jack felt partly responsible. He knew how much Phryne loved to mother over the budding relationship between Dot and Collins, and he thought, most of the time, that she did an awfully good job pushing them together when they needed it the most. He reached out and rested a gentle hand on her arm, causing her to flinch slightly.   
“Perhaps we could both go?”   
Phryne let his question wash over her, his soft tone doing things to her head. Her? Jack? Sharing a table, away from prying eyes and with maybe... maybe more than one candle? It sounded like heaven, but then again- the Honourable Miss Phryne Fisher was never supposed to seem too eager. She rolled her eyes.   
“Well Jack, I was just about to suggest that of course!”   
She placed her cup back on the side and grabbed her cloche, before buttoning up her coat and practically running to the door.   
“I’ll ask Dot for the details!” she exclaimed, pulling her hat firmly down over her cap of dark hair,  
“Dress nicely, Jack! I’ll see you then!”   
With that, she was gone, a lone red feather from her coat left on the floor, and the smell of French perfume being the only trace she was ever there to begin with. Well. That and a feeling of nervousness blooming in the DI’s heart. 

Jack walked back into his office and shut the door, before promptly sitting down and placing his head in his hands. The date was Hugh and Dottie’s. Miss Fisher and himself were only chaperones, he kept telling himself. Two consenting adults, sitting at a table, alone (alone!), dresses up nicely, with a posh dinner and a couple of candles. Not a date. Definitely not a date. With that thought, he opened the folder that housed the Regatta case files, and got to work, doing anything to get the dratted woman off of his mind. Perhaps it was his imagination, but he could have sworn that the sheets smelt faintly of Nuit D’Amour soap- a scent that he was starting to know and love. 

Miss Fisher, it seemed, was having the same clash of thoughts.  
“Dot!?” She called from the bathroom, where she was sipping from a cup of tea and letting her skin soak under layers and layers of bubbles,  
“I hear you have a date with Hugh tonight?”   
Dorothy Williams rushed back into the bathroom with a smile on her face, her cheeks blushed a soft pink, while she fiddled with undoing the buttons on the dress which Phryne had asked her to lay out.  
“Yes, Miss!” she chirruped excitedly,   
“I do! We’re supposed to be going to La Rosa- you know; the Italian place on the same street as the police station?”   
Phryne nodded- she knew the place well. It was a beautifully upkept restaurant, full of dimly lit tables and delicious food, the staff were most polite, and of course, the vintage wines were the very best.   
“How lovely Dot!” Phryne exclaimed, dragging herself out of the bath and taking the waiting silken robe from Dot’s arms, wrapping it around herself in cocoon-like fashion.  
“It’s such a divine place, I shall be quite glad to join you.”  
She meandered through to the boudoir with a playful smile on her face, and Dorothy was frozen in place, her mouth hanging open, before she collected herself and rushed after her mistress.  
“But Miss!” she spoke out,  
“This date is for me and Hugh!” she frowned as Phryne sat down on her dressing table stool and started to pretty herself- fixing and drying her hair, before applying her meagre amounts of kohl and blush, and smoothing on her lipstick. She blew her reflection a kiss.   
“I’m fully aware of that Dot.” she explained, turning around to smile at her companion,  
“But Hugh was rather nervous, so I invited myself along to chaperone you!”   
Dottie sighed. At least Miss Fisher was honest, she thought to herself, it was one of the features that made her quite so likeable. She brushed down her dress and made her way to the door.  
“I’ll leave you to get ready then, Miss.”  
Phryne smiled, and starting to shed her robe, thanked her companion graciously. Before Dot could leave the room, however, she called out one last time.  
“Dot?”  
Dorothy sighed once again, almost inaudibly.  
“Yes, Miss.”   
“Would you mind awfully calling the station and asking Jack what colour tie he is planning on wearing? He’s coming along too.”   
Dot’s jaw dropped slightly, before she recomposed herself.   
“Of course, Miss.”   
With that, she was gone, and Phryne set about readying herself, though not going completely over the top with her look. She knew perfectly well that Jack would wear a blue tie, he always did whenever a tux was necessary, but she wanted Dot to have an excuse to call the station all the same- she had a feeling that she would want to have a stern talk with Hugh about Letting Miss Fisher Get Her Way All The Time. Phryne giggled: this was going to be far too much fun- even if it wasn’t a date! She pinched herself. It wasn’t a date. 

An hour late, and enrobed in a deep blue silk, Phryne was a sight to behold. The navy blue fabric clung to her every curve, and a long hem graced her legs, before it dipped to allow sight of her silver pumps, which, due to how comfortable they were, she had left on from earlier. The neckline of the dress itself was relatively conservative, a simple ‘V’ shape, and surrounded by pearls that hung prettily against the alabaster skin of her neck. A black lace shawl graced her shoulders, and her hair was decorated only with a silver vintage comb, the diamonds sparking in a bright comparison to her dark hair. As she caught a glimpse of herself in the darkened doors of La Rosa, she smiled almost smugly to herself- she looked awfully good. 

A barman swung open the doors for herself and Dot, and Phryne turned to her companion with a gentle smile, and touched her softly on the arm.   
“Have fun.” She said sweetly, and then gestured to a secluded booth near to the back- one lone candle lit, and a familiar face already seated.   
“I’ll be right over there if you need me.”   
Dorothy forced herself to smile, nerves taking the better of her- she had just noticed Hugh out the corner of her eye, and he looked quite dashing when he wasn’t in his constabulary uniform.   
“Thank you, Miss.” said Dot in a rather shy manner, and Phryne began to walk off, her heels clicking with every step. Dot raised her voice slightly so that the woman could still hear her even though she was walking away through a crowd of people.   
“He said his tie was a dark blue, Miss!”   
Phryne turned back and shot Dot a glowing smile.  
“I know, Dot!”   
With that, she was swept away by the crowd, and Dottie started to make her way over to Hugh, who immediately jumped up, kissed her on the cheek, and pulled out her chair, before taking her hat and hanging it wherever the cloakroom was. His manners were impeccable, and this quelled Dottie’s nerves ever so slightly. Why ever was she nervous in the first place, she asked herself. It was only Hugh Collins, after all! 

Across the room, Phryne slid herself into the booth seat, and placing one hand under her chin, smiled at her chaperoning companion.   
“Jack.”   
“Miss Fisher.”   
A moment of silence passed over the two of them before they both started off speaking at the same time once again.   
“Your tie compliments your eyes-“  
“About earlier-“  
They both paused, and Phryne stuttered out an awkward laugh, reaching for the glass of red vintage that Jack had already made available for her.   
She took a breath, and not repeating her compliment towards him, swilled the wine around the glass in her hand before taking a deep sip.   
“Go on.” She said gently, kinder than usual, her eyes almost pleading him to continue.  
He sighed and reached for his own glass.  
“I’m sorry if I was an ass.” his comment was blunt, and sharp, and his eyes seems dull. Phryne looked at him in a confused manner.  
“Jack, dear, where on earth did you get that idea? I know full well when I’m not wanted around- you really thought I would take offence from that?” A waiter tried to approach their table and she wafted the man away with one hand.   
“I’m used to you being tired of my presence, Jack, it’s not as if you don’t constantly express how much of a bother my being on a crime scene is to you.” she elongated the word constantly, and Jack forced himself to crack a smile- so she wasn’t hurt, she was just playing.   
“Well.” he paused, mulling the words over in his mind.  
“It’s good to know that you are aware of quite how much you bother me.” she smiled at that comment, and he looked at her through caring eyes. His Miss Fisher.   
“Jack?” Her voice snapped him out of whatever trance he had slipped in to, and she reached out for his hand over the table.  
“It doesn’t make you uncomfortable that I’m here, does it? You’re more than welcome to ask me to leave, why it’s not a problem at all-“ her voice went up and up as she spoke, and Jack could see the tension building from the way she held her shoulders. He squeezed her hand reassuringly, not letting it go out of the gentle grip that he held around it.  
“Phryne.”   
She looked up from her glass (which had suddenly become very interesting in light of her borderline emotional outbreak), and met his eye cautiously. He continued once he knew that he had her full attention.  
“I want you to be here- chaperoning a date by myself, in a room full of eligible women, would be hell on Earth. If anything, I was nervous!”   
Phryne drank in his words, and suddenly back to her usual self, spoke again.   
“Jack!” she laughed slightly, and stroked the palm of his hand with her thumb.   
“Are you taking this situation as a... a date?!”   
Jack bit his bottom lip.   
“No?”   
Phryne sighed loudly. Of course he wasn’t, the beautiful, innocent man. She silently wished to herself that he was.  
“Well.” she said, after a second’s pause.  
“If it makes you feel any better: it’s certainly not a double date. We’re third and fourth wheeling.”   
Jack chuckled, and Phryne smiled.   
“As much as Mr. B and Dottie do seem to love playing matchmaker, I don’t think Hugh would stoop so low.”   
Jack felt the butterflies start building in his stomach at the soft tones she was using, and realised she still hadn’t removed her hand from his, even though she had been given plenty of opportunity to.  
“Are you sure about that, Miss Fisher?”  
He glanced over to where Hugh and Dottie were chatting amicably, without a care in the world. The two of them seemed so at peace with one another, and Jack felt a pang in his heart as he realised that, even at the start with Rosie, he had never had that simple, sweet love. 

Without thinking any further, he raised Phryne’s wrist to his lips, and kissed it gently. He felt the shiver that ran across her skin, and noted the little blush of pink that covered her nose and cheeks.  
“And what if we’re not simply... third and fourth wheeling, Miss Fisher?” he asked, letting her hand go and leaning back in his seat.   
Phryne smiled, slow and happy, like a cat who had gotten to the cream.  
“Well, Jack.” she said, clipping the ‘k’ of his name as she was known to do.  
“I wouldn’t be complaining.”

With that, she flagged down a waiter, and ordered more wine. She had a feeling that if she was to keep cracking Jack out of his shell, he would need more time, more wine, and a listening ear. Jack? Well. He certainly wasn’t going to complain. After all. The company was the best he had had in years.

**Author's Note:**

> AGAIN?   
Once I start I suppose I never do stop, welcome back to yet ANOTHER trope filled fic. The prompt really spoke to me, and gods, I wasn’t waiting another week to write it! Feel free to comment your thoughts, more prompts, anything at all. I’ve loved writing for the inhabitants of Miss Fisher Island so far.   
\- T x


End file.
